


hiding here

by SinginInTheRaine



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Divergence - Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Dinner, F/F, Hiding, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Sex, Training, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 20:10:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20895431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinginInTheRaine/pseuds/SinginInTheRaine
Summary: It wasn't every day that the Black Widow stopped by to train one's nephew. And it certainly wasn't every day that she ended up staying for dinner.





	hiding here

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madeinessos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madeinessos/gifts).

“Wait! Aunt May! Please. Wait. You can’t just …”

May could hear Peter scrambling after her down the sidewalk, could hear his voice rising in that high-pitched way it did when he got nervous, but she was not going to be stopped by a pleading look in his eyes or a nervous stutter. She was focused, eyes ahead, fist wrapped firmly around the strap of her purse, each step forceful and purposeful.

Ahead of her gleamed what, in her opinion, was another ugly building in a sea of ugly buildings. The huge A on top seemed to mock everything around it.

She stopped suddenly, whirling around, almost causing Peter to crash into her.

“How do you get in?” she demanded. “You call your friend Tony and tell him to let us in.”

“But May …”

“Or you fly me up there!” She pointed to the very top of the building, seemingly miles above them, her eyes never leaving Peter’s.

He visibly gulped, and then pulled out his phone, pressing it to his ear.

“Uh, hi, Mr. Stark, it’s, uh, Peter … No, no, I, uh … Well, you see, Mr. Stark …”

May yanked the phone from his hand and held it to her own ear.

“Mr. Tony Stark,” she said forcefully into the phone. “You get someone to let us in right now, or so help me god, I will be calling every media outlet in this country to let them know you think kidnapping a child and crossing international boundaries is ….”

May smiled a minute later and handed the phone back to Peter.

“Someone will be right out to greet us,” she said, and she watched as Peter’s smile wavered a bit in panic.

\--

Tony Stark was just as May Parker remembered him from that first visit to her home — charming, intense, kind. This time, though, he was a little shocked at the force of her anger, as if he never thought that letting a fourteen-year-old kid go fight other superheroes in Germany could be some kind of an issue.

“I don’t want him to get hurt,” Tony kept repeating to her, even as the rage poured from her mouth. “I don’t. I want to protect him. It’s why I made him the suit.”

“You made him the suit?” May practically roared.

“No, no, Aunt May!” Peter sounded desperate behind her. She whirled around to glare at him, and he cowered a little, looking toward Tony.

“I had a suit,” he finally said. “I, um, made it myself, and I, um, Mr. Stark, he, um …”

“Made him a better one,” Tony told her. “Safer. Offers much more protection. An AI who can help him out of dangerous situations.”

“I don’t want him to be in dangerous situations,” May said.

“I don’t think either of us can prevent that,” Tony told her, and when they both looked at Peter, he pretended to be entirely too absorbed in looking out the windows over the city below.

In the end, Tony offered a compromise.

“I can send someone to help train him,” he told her, and then at her glare, he added, “If he’s going to do it, he should at least be safe, right?”

“I guess.”

“And it’s better he know what he’s getting into than just diving headlong into danger.”

“Well, yes.”

“Don’t worry,” Tony said. “This will be perfect.”

•••

The doorbell rang exactly at two o’clock on Saturday afternoon, just as Tony had said it would. May stood up, but Peter was already diving for the door. He had been nervously paving the apartment all day, wondering who Tony was sending to help him train.

Peter opened the door, and then May saw the mask of his suit, that was in his hand, drop to the floor as he stared at the person on the other side.

May took a step toward him as the person entered the room. It was a she. A long redhaired woman in a pair of yoga pants and black tank top. May felt her own mouth go dry as she looked at her.

“Black Widow,” Peter whispered. “In my living room.”

“You can call me Natasha,” the woman said. She looked over at May. “May Parker?” she asked. She moved closer and held out her hand. “Natasha Romanoff.”

May took her hand, knowing exactly who she was now. She remembered her on television a few years ago when there was that big scandal with the agency called SHIELD. Her hair was different now. She looked older, a little more tired, but still just as beautiful.

Her hand was softer than May would have expected for someone who handled weapons all day. Her handshake was firm, but her smile was soft.

Natasha looked over at Peter. “Ready?” she asked him.

Peter nodded, then stole a glance at May.

“Take care of him,” May said to Natasha. “Don’t let him do anything stupid.”

“Don’t worry,” Natasha said. “He’s safe with me.”

Then with another smile, Natasha and Peter were out the door, and May was left staring after where they had been, feeling oddly liked she wished she could have gone along.

•••

Natasha and Peter’s training became a regular thing. Three nights a week and on Saturday afternoons, they would head out to do whatever it was they were doing. May wanted to ask, but yet at the same time she didn’t want to ask.

Every time Peter came home, he told her, with a voice of admiration, of how awesome Natasha was, how she could be scary but sweet, how she was so good at everything. But Peter only knew the side of her that she showed him, and May found herself wanting to know more and more about this Avengers who was training her nephew.

On the third Saturday of their lessons together, May invited Natasha to stay for dinner with them. The apartment smelled strongly of pesto and pasta and the scent of freshly baked bread.

For the first time since May (and probably Peter) had met her, May saw a flash of uncertainty on Natasha’s face as she looked at both of them and glanced toward the kitchen. 

May had done her research. She knew Natasha wasn’t supposed to be out in the open, not after that whole mess with the Accords, but that she had come back because Tony had asked her for a favor (and probably promised to protect her). But the world she had most likely known before the Accords was gone — no Avengers, no missions, just teaching a young boy to be better.

May looked at Natasha’s face, at the hesitation on it, and made a split-second call she hoped was right.

“When’s the last time you had a home cooked meal?” she asked her softly.

Natasha didn’t answer, and May knew her instinct was right. 

“Come on,” she said to her. “Stay for dinner.”

Natasha still looked hesitant, but Peter spoke up. “I can tell Mr. Stark you’re still with us.”

Natasha’s eyes flashed to him, and May couldn’t tell if the expression on her face was anger or surprise.

Peter shrugged. “I’m not stupid,” he said. “I know Mr. Stark is helping you hide. He keeps tabs on me, too, I’m pretty sure.”

Natasha stared at Peter for a second longer and then turned to May. “Smart nephew you have there,” she said.

“Takes after me,” May said, and ruffled Peter’s hair as she stood up to get the bread from the oven. “Now are you going to stay?”

Peter held up his phone. “Already calling Mr. Stark,” he said.

May heard Natasha sigh as she bent over the oven and pulled out the bread.

“I’ll stay,” Natasha said.

•••

Natasha and May were alone together, sitting side by side on the couch. Their empty vodka glasses sat before them on the coffee table.

This was the third night Natasha had stayed for dinner. The first time, with the pasta and the Italian bread, she had been rather quiet, letting May and Peter do most of the talking, Peter telling them of his various adventures around town and May frowning at him. The second time, when May had pulled out homemade lasagna, Natasha had asked more questions, and May and Peter had told her how they came to be living together, and Peter told them both about the radioactive spider that changed his (and May’s) life. 

This third time, Natasha had finally talked a bit. She admitted, even though May and Peter had already guessed, that she was staying in a safehouse that she really only came out of to help Peter. Tony had told her he would protect her from the people in the government who were looking for her, but she had to stay hidden as much as possible.

May had gotten the feeling as Natasha talked that doing that was a lot harder for her than she had anticipated, so when dinner was finished and the plates were cleared away and Peter had disappeared to his room to do homework (or to sneak out and save the streets of New York. May wasn’t as ignorant to his whereabouts as she may seem), she had invited Natasha to stay for a few drinks with her, and Natasha, always hesitant, had agreed.

There was something about her that May really liked, and she felt herself drawn to the other woman. She found herself wanting to know more about her, wanting to uncover things that Natasha probably kept secret from so many people.

And now, they were sitting side by side, practically touching. Natasha had finally dropped the cool indifference she wore much of the time, and now she just looked tired, maybe lonely.

May couldn’t help it. She reached out a hand and placed it over Natasha’s wrist. Her skin was smooth, warm.

Natasha lifted her head and stared into May’s eyes. 

“It’s okay to not be okay,” May told her quietly, and Natasha’s eyes lowered to stare down at their entwined hands.

May didn’t think through what happened next; if she had, she wouldn’t have done it. She just lifted her other hand, the one not on Natasha’s wrist, and pressed it against Natasha’s cheek, holding it there until Natasha looked back up at her. And then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to Natasha’s, waiting to see if Natasha pushed her away or recoiled in horror.

But she did neither of those things. Instead she almost seemed to sag against May, kissing her back softly, and May found herself shifting around, so she was positioned over Natasha, leaning Natasha back against the cushions, her head braced by the back of the couch.

May found the bottom of Natasha’s tank top and pulled it up and over her head, Natasha lifting herself just enough for May to get it off her. The sports bra she had on underneath was black, and May slid her hands underneath, cupping Natasha’s warm breasts before sliding it up to reveal her naked bosom.

She slid off the couch then, grasping the hem of Natasha’s yoga pants, and sliding them and her underwear off in a few slight pulls, and then she glanced up, at the mostly naked redhead spread out on her couch, looking sad and tired but somehow hopeful at the same time.

May lifted herself up and pressed her lips back to Natasha’s before sinking back down and spreading her thighs apart.

“Just relax,” May told her softly, as she began to trace Natasha’s soft flesh with the tips of her fingers, feeling Natasha’s body shudder softly beneath her. “I’ve got you.”

•••

Natasha lay curled into a small ball on the couch, her head in May’s lap, her naked body covered by a blanket. May had made her come three times before she had finally drifted off, content for a moment.

May sat still on the couch, barely concentrating on the images flickering on the screen in front of her, her fingers winding through Natasha’s long red strands.

She wasn’t completely sure of what she had just done — and she knew she would need to wake Natasha up soon, before Peter found them — but she also knew she didn’t regret it. She hadn’t felt for anyway in a long time what she was starting to feel for Natasha. 

And the way Natasha was curled up in her lap, trusting her to watch over her as she slept? May had a feeling she wasn’t the only one feeling a certain way. And for that, a small smile crept over her face as she, too, closed her eyes.


End file.
